After all, Christmas Eve was jolly. You may cherish a feud against the
most innocent and good-natured person in the world with all your might
and main; but unless you are specially wicked you cannot bring it into
prominence when every one else around you is in the best of good
spirits.
It was altogether a very merry party which started off by train from
Liverpool Street _en route_ for Hedgerow House. We seemed to have left
cares of every sort behind us. The boys were absolutely unruly in their
mirth. As to father, he elected to go in a smoking carriage. This was
a very keen disappointment to Augusta. I saw her start from her seat as
though she would accompany him; but not being invited--indeed, the
Professor did not even see her--she sank back again and solaced herself
by eating chocolates and reading a German book the whole way down.
"Don't you ever want to watch the scenery?" said Von Marlo in his slow
Dutch fashion.
"Yes, when it is worth looking at," she responded. She glanced at him.
"You are a foreigner?"
"Yes, a Dutchman."
"I don't approve of Dutchmen."
She lapsed back into her German. Von Marlo thought it well to change
his seat. He came nearer to me.
Oh, I forgot to say that Hannah was also of the party. Now, she had not
wished to come; she had objected very strongly; but my step-mother,
there was no doubt, was beginning to win Hannah over. Hannah came to my
room that very morning when I was dressing to go, and said, "Miss Dumps,
I do hope you won't take it amiss, but--"
"Why, what is it, Hannah?" I asked.
"Well, I'm going too."
"I'm very glad," I said.
"'Tain't that I like her a bit better than I did," said Hannah--"not a
bit. She's a step-mother, and what's a step-mother but a sort of person
who is in league against the children of the first wife? I've sworn to
be a friend to the first wife's children. Didn't the poor lady come to
visit me in a dream the very night I heard of your pa's marriage, and
didn't I promise that I'd never leave you? And didn't she come again
last night in another dream and tell me to go down to Hedgerow House--
not for my own enjoyment, but to be close to you, Miss Dumps, and the
two dear boys? So I'm going. Those new servants can look after this
place. 'Tain't what it was."
"Indeed it isn't, Hannah. I am very glad you are going with us. And to
be honest, Hannah, isn't it now, frankly, very much nicer than it was?"
"Not to my way of thinking," said Hannah. "The house now is at that
work what I 'ates."
"The house?" I said. "What is the poor house doing?"
"Pushing out old memories; that's what this 'ere house is busy over.
Every room that gets decked up new is pushing out the old memories--the
memories of the time when that poor, dear shadow walked from room to
room trying to get a glimpse of sunshine. She'll soon be gone, poor
dear! That's what I call the behaviour of the house, so don't ask me if
I like it better, for I don't, and that's flat."
Had I been at all wise I should have talked sensibly to Hannah; but in
my heart of hearts, although knowing that she spoke the most absolute
nonsense, I could not help partly agreeing with her.
The very last thing I did before leaving was to take mother's miniature
and stuff it into the bottom of the little old horse-hair trunk which
had been unearthed from a distant garret for me. Nothing would induce
me to take my step-mother's new trunk on this special journey. I was
not too well dressed, either, for I could not possibly buy the smart,
warm costume which my step-mother had set her heart on, and up to the
present I had given her no reason for this. But then I had endless
ribbons--sky-blue, pink, mauve, even green; and I had quantities of
chiffon bows and chiffon ties, and good gloves and good stockings, and
lovely handkerchiefs. I felt that I would pass muster, and turned a
deaf ear when Mrs Grant came somewhat anxiously to my room to know if I
did not want a corner of her trunk for some of my prettiest dresses. I
told her that the horse-hair trunk held all I required, and she went
away.
Well, at last we got off, and we were in the train. Good-bye, dull
care! This was Christmas-time--the time of presents, of fun and
hilarity. I had taken good care to bring all my Christmas-boxes with
me.
When we arrived at Chelmsford Station there was a great wagonette
waiting for us, drawn by a pair of brown horses. My step-mother
immediately took the reins. We all scrambled in; father was huddled in
one corner occupied with his Greek Testament. When he had nothing else
to do he always read his Greek Testament.
Augusta pushed herself into the seat exactly opposite to him; she bent
forward and stared fixedly into his face; but he never once looked at
her. I am certain he did not see her. Occasionally she said "Oh!" in
quite an audible tone. I felt that Augusta would be quite enough to
keep any one from perfect bliss if she went on in such an idiotic
fashion.
"What is she doing?" whispered Charley to me.
"Oh, let her alone," I said; "she is worshipping him."
"Worshipping him?" he cried.
"Yes; don't you know?"
"I'll prick her with a pin," he said.
"Oh, you mustn't--you really mustn't! Do let her alone, poor thing!
You see, she sees a kind of glory round father which we don't."
"My word, I should think not!" said Charley. "Poor, dear old Professor!
Of course, he's a jolly old dad and all that sort of thing, but--"
Charley gave a low whistle.
Augusta's voice was now heard.
"You were reading that passage aloud; I heard it," she said. "Would you
greatly mind raising your voice a little?"
The Professor lowered his book.
"Eh?" he said.
Then he dropped his glasses. They were _pince-nez_, and as he dropped
them one of the glasses fell out. The wagonette had to be stopped, and
we had all to search for the missing glass; and so Augusta's question
was never answered, for when the glass was found it was slipped into its
case, and father readjusted his _pince-nez_ on his nose, and went on
reading as though nothing had happened.
Augusta looked round at me.
"It would have been such a valuable help," she said, "and so very little
extra exertion to him."
"Oh, don't talk to him while he's reading," I said. "I'll get you a
chance if you're good; but do just make an effort to keep your feelings
to yourself."
We had now reached the house, and we all tumbled out of the wagonette.
I do think there is no other way of describing the manner in which we
left that vehicle. Mrs Grant immediately assumed the manners of
hostess. She gave directions to the groom who had brought the carriage,
flung him the reins, and then spoke to a man who was waiting. This man
disposed of what luggage had been brought in the carriage; the rest was
to follow in a cart. Then we entered the house.
Its smallness, its bewitching appearance, the little drawing-room with
the stuffed birds and stuffed animals, the dear little dining-room, the
pretty bedrooms upstairs, were invaded as though by a horde of ants.
Nancy was curtsying and bobbing at the hall door. She welcomed me as
though I were a very dear friend, and personally took me up herself to
the identical room where I had slept before. It was just as sweet and
fresh and fragrant, and the brightest of fires burned in the grate; but
there was an extra bed in one corner, which in itself was disconcerting.
Then Augusta appeared and flung down an ugly leather valise, which she
had brought her clothes in, on the snowy white counterpane, and said,
with a sigh, "Oh, wonderful--wonderful! Marvellous beyond words to
express! I am here! I am here!"
"Augusta," I said stoutly, "if you go on in that fashion you'll be a
raving lunatic before Christmas Day is over. Now pull yourself together
and be sensible. You'll never get father to talk to you if you keep on
staring at him and interrupting him. We are going to have a jolly time,
and to forget heroics and `high strikes' and all the rest. Oh, there's
the luncheon-bell, and I'm ever so hungry!"
That was a very happy evening notwithstanding the fact that the Miss
Grace Donnithorne of less than a couple of months ago was now Mrs Grant
and our step-mother. In her own house, surrounded by her own things,
she was more difficult than ever to resist. Indeed, I think no one
tried to do so, for she was the very soul of tact, and managed to make
us all feel that we were her guests, and as guests ought to be
particularly nice. Alex said to me, "She is quite charming! She is
good! She is a dear! I'm beginning to love her. I don't care what you
say to the contrary."
"I like her for herself," I said.
"Then for goodness' sake prove it, Dumps, and don't wear that horridly
starched, proper face. It's enough to drive any one cracked even to
look at you. You were always plain, but now that you are both plain and
affected, you will be too offensive to live with before long."
"Thank you," I answered. "I never did come to my family for
compliments, and I certainly am not getting them."
"You won't get them from me, or from Charley, or from Von Marlo while
you behave like that. Why, I declare I'd rather be that poor, demented
Augusta Moore than go on as you are doing."
"But what am I doing?" I asked. "What do you mean? I'm doing
nothing."
"Nothing, Dumps? Be truthful with yourself. Try and get over that
horrid feeling, and let us be really happy this Christmas."
"But there was our mother--"
"She wasn't with us last Christmas, was she?"
"She was in spirit."
"Well, if she was with us in spirit last Christmas--when we were so
jolly miserable, and I had that bad influenza, and Charley sprained his
foot, and we had hardly any Christmas dinner and no Christmas-boxes at
all except the things we managed to make with the old carpenter's tools,
and when father forgot to come home till the evening, and you began to
cry and said that he had been run over by an omnibus--if mother was with
us in spirit when we were all really wretched, don't you think she will
be twenty times more in spirit with us now when we are all jolly and
good and good-humoured? If our mother is an angel in heaven--and I
suppose you believe she is--she must be blessing that sweet woman Grace
Donnithorne, as you used to call her, every moment of the time. Oh,
there! I needn't say any more. I'll let Von Marlo have a talk with
you."
"But he sha'n't--I won't be talked to," I said.
I rushed away up to my own room. In spite of myself, my feelings were
arrested by Alex's words. For a moment I knelt down and said to God,
"Please let me feel kindly towards my step-mother; please let me have a
really nice Christmas Day."
After that it was wonderful how my spirits were soothed and how much
happier I felt. Christmas Eve ended in fun and games and all sorts of
preparations for the merriest Christmas which was to follow, and we all
went to bed in high good-humour.